


can’t keep my hands to myself

by thekardemomme



Series: Anatomy [1]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: 3 times lucas notices eliott’s rings and 1 time he does something about it.





	can’t keep my hands to myself

**Author's Note:**

> how to spot a fic by caroline: harry styles references
> 
> fic #1 of this series: hands

**i.**

“i’m just  _ saying,” _ lucas grins, sliding one of manon’s diamond rings on his left ring finger and admiring it, “that i would look good as hell in an engagement ring, so you should be the one to propose.”

he holds up his hand for eliott to see, smile growing wider when he sees eliott pretending to be seriously analyzing how it looks. “i see your point,” eliott concurs. he holds lucas’s left hand up closer to eye level to inspect it further and then winks at lucas, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “you would look absolutely gorgeous in my ring.”

“i’m glad we agree.” lucas takes the ring off and then moves to slide it onto eliott’s wedding finger. it’s too small, and only goes to just above the second knuckle. “see? it’s a sign. the ring doesn’t even fit you.”

“because it’s fit for a girl with dainty hands.”

lucas gasps, “are you calling my hands girly and dainty?”

“you said it, not me.” eliott slides the ring off of his ring finger and moves it to his pinky, and it fits. he grabs some of manon’s other rings and starts putting them on any finger they’ll fit on, and when he runs out of room, holds them up for lucas to see. “i think i like rings.”

“it’s a good look,” lucas deadpans, poking at some of the colorful rings that are  _ way _ too small for eliott’s fingers. “i don’t know if diamonds and gems are really your style, though. i think you’d be much more fit for some… harry styles type of rings, for example.”

“don’t mention harry styles,” eliott warns. 

“why?”

“just the mention of his name gets me hot,” eliott winks, fanning himself dramatically with his ring covered hands. “i could swoon just thinking about him!”

lucas rolls his eyes, “you’re so gay.”

“that’s you, my love.”

“whatever. you’re so not straight. better?”

“much.” eliott smiles and leans over, pressing his lips to lucas’s. lucas easily falls into it, cupping eliott’s cheeks and deepening the kiss. when eliott’s hands come up to rest on his neck, he can feel the cool metal of the rings, and for some reason it gets him even hotter under the collar. 

he pulls back, giving eliott a weak smile. the last thing he needs to do is get a boner over the mental image of eliott jerking him off with those rings on. they’re  _ manon’s.  _

“we should put those back before we break one,” he says, and eliott wiggles his eyebrows suggestively before complying and returning them one by one back to their proper place. 

lucas files the memory of the feeling of the rings away for later.

**ii.**

lucas sits back on eliott’s bed, watching eliott move around the room quickly. they’d lost track of time within each other, and eliott was supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago to meet his parents at some family thing across the city. as much as lucas liked watching eliott get dressed, he couldn’t deny that watching him get undressed was much more enjoyable. 

“i can’t believe you’re just leaving me,” he sighs dramatically, flopping back against the pillows like a melodramatic disney princess. “that makes you a shitty boyfriend, you know. what kind of person leaves their boyfriend alone after fucking their brains out? it’s cruel!”

eliott turns to him and rolls his eyes, but the point falls flat when he smiles fondly. “stop being so dramatic, baby. it’ll only be a few hours and then i’ll be right back and we can watch a movie or something.” he pauses in the middle of buttoning up his shirt, raising his eyebrows. “you  _ are  _ staying the night, right?”

“as weird as it is to stay in your apartment alone, yes, i’ll still be here when you get back. promise. you owe me cuddles and a movie anyway, it’s what i came over for.”

“baby,  _ you’re  _ the one who–”

“honestly, eliott, the blame isn’t important right now. what’s important is that your bus leaves in less than ten minutes.”

eliott curses, hurrying to finish buttoning up his shirt. he tucks it in and puts on a belt while lucas comes up behind him and adjusts the collar, peppering light kisses to the back of his neck. eliott laughs and tells him it’s not fair to tempt him to stay home like that, to which lucas says that he’ll be sure to send him plenty of nudes while he’s gone just to make it worse. 

“i really have to go now, baby. but i’ll see you soon, okay?” he leans forward to kiss lucas, and that’s when lucas feels it–cool metal against his cheeks. 

lucas pulls back from the kiss and grabs eliott’s hands, inspecting them closely. there’s three rings on his fingers, but not manon’s this time. they’re silver, some big and some thinner, a skull and a rose and one shaped like a snake. lucas stares at them in astonishment.

yeah, he was so fucking right about the harry styles thing. 

“what are you looking at?” eliott asks nervously, snapping lucas out of his dirty thoughts of sucking eliott’s fingers in his mouth until he can taste the metal on his tongue. 

“the rings,” lucas says dumbly. “they look… nice.”

“oh. thanks.” eliott studies his own hands and then blushes, pulling them out of lucas’s grasp. “i thought they looked cool in the store, so, um…” and it occurs to lucas that eliott is  _ nervous,  _ like he’s worried that lucas actually hates the rings. 

it wouldn’t surprise him. for a long time, lucas tried to separate himself from being considered feminine. he actively avoided stereotypically feminine things, insisted to himself that he wasn’t  _ that type  _ of gay. he’s come a long way since then, of course, but still. sometimes it still sticks out in his mind. 

surely those thought processes weren’t a lucas exclusive thing. it’s possible that eliott thought that way too, was scared of doing anything that might associate him with being into boys, and that even in the middle of doing things like wearing rings, his fear could come rushing back. it wouldn’t be unreasonable for eliott to still have that underlying internalized homophobia. lucas knows he’s not the only one carrying that burden. 

he’s sure it doesn’t help that he’s staring at eliott in a daze, eyes wide and jaw dropped, being eerily silent for seconds too long. he can see the fear and worry start to cloud eliott’s face, and he doesn’t know how to tell him that this isn’t disgust or discomfort, it’s  _ lust.  _ he doesn’t know how to tell eliott all of the dirty things he’s thinking–another side effect of the whole internalized homophobia thing, possibly. 

but he knows he needs to say something to get that look off of eliott’s face. “they suit you,” he rushes out, running his fingers over the rings and then lacing their hands together. “seriously, i really like them.”

“really?”

“yeah,” lucas nods, leaning forward to kiss eliott. eliott responds instantly, excitedly almost. lucas fights the urge to tear at eliott’s clothes because he really does have to go, but damn if those rings don’t get all of the blood in lucas’s body rushing south as though in a race against time. 

_ you could finish before eliott’s bus,  _ his mind supplies. lucas isn’t sure if he should be tempted by that or embarrassed that he’s hyper aware of just how quickly eliott can get him on the edge. 

he decides that eliott doesn’t need that stroke to his ego, and gently pushes eliott back with a hand placed in the center of his chest. “you need to go,” he murmurs, and eliott whines, trying to go back in for more kisses. “you’ll see me later and we can kiss all we want, okay? but you really need to go.”

“ugh, fine,” eliott groans. “you better be naked when i get back.” he grabs his bag and heads for the door, laughing at lucas’s affronted squawk as he lays back down against the pillows. “bye, baby.”

“bye,” lucas waves, and then when eliott disappears he calls out, “love you!”

“love you too!”

**iii.**

there’s not very many things lucas is bad at, in his humble opinion. he’s not that great at french literature, or PE, and he’s never been all that great with speaking english. oh, and he wasn’t ever taught how to tell if steak is done cooking. but even so, there’s one thing he’s worse at than all of those combined: foosball. 

all of his friends know this, which is why it’s absolutely outrageous that they force him to play against them when they’re in the common room. he knows they only do it to make fun of him, which he really doesn’t appreciate–but he always agrees to play anyway, hanging on to the small sliver of hope that he’ll win. 

today, he’s lost to yann twice and basile once, and was currently losing to arthur. they’re playing first to ten, and the score is a daunting 7-2. lucas knows it’ll only be a handful of minutes before arthur gets the next three goals and he loses  _ again.  _

“i hate foosball so much,” lucas groans as he tries (and actually doesn’t fail) to block the ball. arthur takes it in stride and just sends the ball flying right back over and right past all of lucas’s players. 

8-2. 

“you only hate it because,” arthur cuts himself off for a moment as he tries to block lucas, “you suck at it.”

“obviously,” lucas snaps, twisting the handles harder than is probably necessary. unfortunately, he gets extremely competitive and therefore extremely irritable when losing. he really doesn’t know why they keep asking him to play. “i hate all of you so much.”

“all of us?” yann asks. 

“yeah, all of you.”

“as in, everyone currently sitting behind you?”

“yes!” lucas snaps. 

there’s a dramatic gasp, and lucas freezes. “i’m hurt, lucas! my own boyfriend hates me,” eliott says, and fuck, when did he get here?

“you’re right,” lucas retorts. “i do, because you’ve been sitting there for how long watching me lose? get your ass over here and help me!”

arthur makes a noise in protest, but doesn’t take his eyes off of the foosball table. “that’s not fair, you can’t have him help you! then it’s two against one, i’ll lose for sure!”

“lucas hardly counts as one,” eliott says, his voice much closer this time. lucas starts to move over, expecting eliott to stand next to him. but instead he feels eliott pressing against lucas’s back, hands coming to rest over his on the rods. “just follow my lead, baby, okay?” he whispers, and lucas practically melts. he doesn’t know how eliott expects him to pay attention when he’s being surrounded like this, but he takes a deep breath and tries his best to focus. 

so, eliott starts guiding his hands. it doesn’t make him suddenly so much better than arthur, but it does even the playing field. lucas lets eliott take over and move his hands, and lets his mind wander as eliott works to even out the score. 

before long, the score is 9-9, and eliott presses that much harder against lucas in anticipation. there’s absolutely no doubt about the fact that eliott is playing and lucas is just moving his hands, but no one says anything. lucas doesn’t mind–he likes being so enveloped by eliott. it’s like cuddling, except with more stress and swearing. 

as eliott starts working towards the final goal, lucas makes the grave mistake of looking away from the foosball and down at where his hands are. eliott’s hands aren’t much bigger than his, so they don’t cover them completely, but they’re still hard to miss–rings. the skull, rose, and snake have made a comeback, but there’s  _ more.  _ there’s at least one ring on every finger, except for his wedding finger and his right pinky. lucas can feel his mind go blank, his mouth go dry, and his eyes glaze over. fuck. 

he works on counting the rings, which proves to be a decently difficult feat when eliott’s hands are constantly moving for foosball. but he manages, and by the time eliott scores the last goal, he’s counted eleven rings. 

“we won!” eliott celebrates, and lucas blinks because he hadn’t even realized that the game was over. “we make a good team, you know. we should go out or something.”

“yeah,” lucas says distractedly. “or something.”

he vaguely recognizes that he’s being pulled away from the foosball game so yann and basile can play, and he dumbly follows eliott over to the window, where they can sit and watch but be far enough away to have a private conversation. lucas takes a seat on the windowsill and eliott steps between his legs, resting his hands on lucas’s thighs. 

lucas is painfully aware of the rings through the fabric of his jeans, and he can feel his jeans start to get tighter. 

“you okay?” eliott asks, trailing his hands up higher and closer to lucas’s hips. “you spaced out on me all of a sudden. that high on winning?”

“something like that,” lucas murmurs. he wraps his arms around eliott’s neck and scoots closer, so eliott can feel his tightening jeans. eliott’s eyes go wide and he looks around for a second to make sure no one’s watching, and then leans in to whisper to lucas. 

“what’s gotten into you?”

lucas pouts, “i wish you were getting into me.” he presses closer. “you look really hot today.” eliott looks down at his sweatpants and hoodie, and then looks back up at lucas curiously. “just take the compliment.”

“thank you?” eliott laughs, tilting his head in confusion. lucas pulls him in and attempts to kiss the confusion away. it seems to work, because before long they’re pressed chest to chest, eliott’s hands on the crease where lucas’s thighs and hip meet and lucas’s hands knotted in eliott’s hair. it’s lucas that opens his mouth first, but eliott responds as though he’d been about to do it himself. 

he can vaguely hear the wolf whistles of his friends in the background, so he untangles one hand from eliott’s hair to flip them off. eliott laughs into the kiss, which only  _ slightly  _ kills the heat, but lucas doesn’t mind. 

eliott pulls back first, but not before being pulled back in six times for more kisses. lucas is never usually this needy–at least, he doesn’t think he is anyway–but he’s about ten seconds from climbing eliott like a fucking  _ tree.  _

“baby,” eliott laughs, “what’s going on?”

“you look really hot,” lucas says again, but eliott just levels him with a soft look. it’s gentle enough to be overwhelmingly fond, but just a bit stern so lucas knows he won’t get away with it. “with the rings. you look hot with those rings,” he rasps out, and eliott’s eyes go wide before thinning out again as he smirks. 

“yeah? the rings do it for you?”

lucas nods pathetically. “yeah. can’t stop thinking about them.”

“what about them? be specific.”

lucas starts to respond, but then yann is yelling about losing and demands that they should play with four people and eliott  _ needs _ to be on his team. lucas pouts but lets him go, lightly tapping his ass when he turns around. 

“if you win,” lucas grins, speaking quietly and for only the two of them, “i’ll let you do whatever you want to me later. so long as you keep those rings on.”

**+i**

eliott wins, and as soon as they get to eliott’s bedroom, lucas is on him. eliott laughs as though he’s surprised, but lucas thinks he really shouldn’t be, considering lucas got hard in school in front of all of his friends just because of some metal. hey, everyone has a thing. apparently eliott’s hands–specifically eliott’s hands with rings–is lucas’s thing. 

he grabs eliott’s hand and places it on the crotch of his jeans, whimpering when eliott immediately starts palming him. lucas does his best to keep up the kissing but it’s difficult when he’s finally getting the release he’s been waiting all afternoon for. 

“what do you want?” eliott asks, completely disregarding the promise that lucas has made him earlier. 

lucas shrugs. “don’t know. don’t care.” but then he thinks about how eliott’s hands will look around his dick, and how eliott’s hands will look on his ass, and how eliott’s hands will look  _ in _ his ass. “want you to… i want you to finger me. please.”

eliott moans at the thought, palming lucas harder. lucas steps back, undoing his own jeans and shoving them off, followed by his shirt. eliott follows his lead and strips down too, and lucas groans when eliott pushes down his jeans and reveals that he hadn’t been wearing any underwear. 

“don’t get too hot,” eliott teases, “i just didn’t have any clean underwear. i’ve spent too much time sleeping at yours, didn’t have any here.”

“baby, that’s hot.”

“what? domesticity? the fact that i stayed at yours too much?”

lucas nods, stepping out of his briefs and then walking backwards towards the bed. eliott follows him like a lost puppy, and when lucas lays on his back in the middle of the bed, eliott doesn’t waste time in climbing on top of him. 

their kissing starts again, and lucas reaches down to rest his hands on eliott’s knees where they’re bracketing his hips. it’s not the best position for the grind they’ve started, but it works, and the feeling of eliott rubbing his cock against lucas’s hip is almost better than the stimulation on his own dick. he loves the fact that he can get eliott so turned on, especially knowing that he’s the only one eliott will turn to for relief. lucas loves taking care of him. 

eliott moves to spread lucas’s legs, and lucas does it without thinking. he wraps his legs around eliott’s waist as soon as they’re in a decent position, and although the grind of their dicks is so much better this way, it doesn’t last much longer. eliott presses kisses to lucas’s chest and then snakes a hand between them to start fisting lucas’s dick. 

“do you wanna see?” eliott asks, as lucas hisses at the rough feeling of the rings. “wanna see how my hand looks on you?” 

all lucas can manage is a weak nod, so eliott lifts himself up on his haunches. lucas props his head up on the pillows and glances down–and almost comes just at the sight of eliott’s hand moving on him. god, the feeling of the rings mixed with the sight of them–he can only imagine how good it’ll feel when those rings are bumping against his rim over and over–

the coil in his stomach gets tight and hot embarrassingly fast, and lucas doesn’t even know if he’ll even be able to manage a warning to eliott. he starts to fuck eliott’s fist helplessly, moaning way too loud for being in the home that eliott shares with his parents. sure, they’re not actually home, but still. 

thankfully eliott knows him well, and lets go of his dick before lucas can end this way too early. he moves to dig through his bedside drawer and returns with a bottle of lube–it’s almost empty, and that makes a weird pride surge through lucas’s stomach. 

eliott slicks up his fingers and then, after putting a pillow underneath lucas’s hips, slides a teasing finger between his cheeks. at the first gentle touch to his rim, lucas moans, trying to push back against it. he’s been desperate before, but he’s pretty sure he’s never been  _ this _ desperate to have something inside him. not even the time that eliott went away for a week and a half and sent him daily sexts about how much he missed fucking lucas. 

“ready?” eliott asks, placing his other hand on lucas’s hip to hold it down. lucas nods, but eliott just moves up to kiss him. “hey, i need to hear it, okay? you’re getting really overwhelmed and i want to make sure you’re good.”

“i’m good,” lucas gasps. “please, please, just–”

“relax, baby.” lucas obliges, and eliott lets the first finger slip in. lucas moans and arches his back, crying out when eliott starts to fuck it in and out. the ring is small and provides very little feeling of bumping against him, and out of desperation for that feeling from his fantasy, lucas asks for another before he’s probably ready. 

eliott never denies him anything, though. he slides in the second finger, which has a bulkier ring, and lucas feels like he could cry. the metal scrapes against his rim and eliott, bless him, has located his prostate and is rubbing relentlessly over it. 

“this is going to be over really quickly,” lucas warns, but eliott just smiles and starts working his fingers in and out, pausing every now and then to spend time rubbing over his prostate. “fuck, really  _ really _ quickly.”

“you’re so fucking hot like this. love how desperate you are for it, for me.” the third finger slips in, and even though lucas takes eliott’s dick on a relatively normal basis, the stretch feels like a lot. it’s bordering on too much, really, but lucas would rather die than ask eliott to stop or slow down. his orgasm is so close he can practically taste it, and all he can think about is the fact that eliott might  _ actually  _ taste it. 

the image of eliott licking his fingers of lucas’s cum, swirling his tongue around the rings, is what finally pushes lucas over the edge. well, that and the torturous circles that eliott is making over his prostate. he cries out and arches his back, spilling all over his chest–completely untouched. 

it’s almost disappointing, knowing that there isn’t a mess for eliott to clean up off of his hands. but he feels too good to be concerned about it. 

eliott pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets, and then uses a t-shirt to wipe down lucas’s stomach. 

“was that as good as you imagined?” he asks, and all lucas can do is nod. “good. because i’m going to have to wash these rings now, and that’s going to be a pain in the ass. you’re lucky i love you.”

“oh, shut up. you know that was just as hot for you as it was for me.” it strikes lucas then that maybe it wasn’t, and he peeks up at eliott nervously. “wasn’t it?”

eliott sighs like he’s thinking about it, but then grins fondly and winks at him. “of course it was. can’t you tell?” he rubs his cock against lucas’s hip, and lucas instantly wakes up. eliott needs to come. eliott, apparently sensing lucas’s desperation to see him come, just laughs and lies on his back and asks, 

“how do you want me?”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @elullemant


End file.
